


Somebody to Watch Your Back

by kiimigi



Series: old habits [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, BAMF Wash, Locus and Wash team up, M/M, Missing Scene, Some prision Wash sprinkled in, season 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23393821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiimigi/pseuds/kiimigi
Summary: Missing scene from Wash's time with the Feds.During Project Freelancer, he had been shot in the back and left for dead. In prison, he had been walking around with a target on his back. Word had gotten around of what he was and suddenly everybody wanted the chance to say they took a freelancer down. Although the Reds and Blues had their moments, he was always hoping that one of them didn't trip up or start bickering in the middle of a mission, clogging up radio with chatter and can we pleeassse save this for later.Now, just like how Tucker had Felix, Wash has no choice but to team up with Locus if he wants to find the rest of the Reds and Blues. It turns out they work pretty well together.It felt good to have someone to watch his back at the very least.
Relationships: Locus | Samuel Ortez & Agent Washington
Series: old habits [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795108
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Somebody to Watch Your Back

He could give it to him, Locus was good.

A gentle fog had draped itself over the night and bugs chirped carelessly in the bush. The patrols sleepily dragged themselves around the base, probably not quite wanting to be there, idly talking with each other and counting the minutes till their shift was over and they could crawl back into bed. 

High up on the cliff side, tucked between some rocks on a ledge were two soldiers in black blending into the night. 

Locus was stretched on his stomach, eye to his sniper as he watched the Rebel’s base. Behind him, Washington sent with his back to the cliff as he watched Locus, his gun close to his chest. They had been staking out this base the entire night, taking turns to keep watch and to rest. Wash had settled in against a rock, bundled against the cold and trying to get as comfortable as one could in these sort of situations. 

The night was still and quiet. Washington’s thoughts drifted to the Red and Blues and the racket they would be making if they were here and still _somehow_ miraculously not getting caught even with their constant bickering. But between two professionals there was no need to fill the time with small talk. All their conversations had been statatoed and measured and the time trickled away too slowly with not much going on.

“It’s time,” Locus said, finally getting up

“Got it,” Washington said and slid forward and followed him.

He could give it to Locus. He was good. But so was he.

They descended onto the base like two shadows. Wash appeared behind the guard, slicing his knife under the guard’s helmet before he even began to struggle and lowering him gently to the ground without a sound. Locus already dragging the body of the second patrolman into a dark corner by the time he was done. 

They are gone before the next patrol comes around the corner. 

And just like that they were in.

Washington checked the window of the door, Locus on the other side of the threshold. Only one guard, headphones in and backs to them. Locus nodded and Washington slipped into the room and the door clicked shut behind them.

Locus dragged the man’s body from the chair as Washington slided the drive into the port. Locus watched the door as Wash worked, lit up by the glow of the computer as he tapped efficiently, hacking into the computer and searching for any useful information. He tried to keep his focus on his work, but Locus was a cold pressure at his back and he couldn’t kick the need to keep him in his peripheral. 

Suddenly, sirens blare to life, the room flashing red. 

Okay fine, lock picking had never been his specialty. 

“Washington'' Locus snapped at him, disappointment clear in his voice. 

“I know” Washington snapped right back, yanking the drive from the computer and tucked it safely into his armour. “I’ve got it. It's time to go.”

From the security monitor, He could already see men soldiers streaming out of the base as the base was abruptly woken up. They would be fighting their way out of this one

“Don't disappoint me again” Locus said and by the time Wash turned, he only caught the last second before as the edges of Locus’s armour blend and he’s disappeared completely. “I expect more from you”

Washington is alone.

“Dammit” Wash swore as he sprinted full pelt out of the base, bolting through the twisting corridors of the base. He takes down two guards without slowly breaking stride, firing control bursts. He slammed through a door, shoulder first and stumbled outside at the same time soldiers stormed around the corner and he ducked and spun on his heels as he dove for cover, a second before bullets exploded. 

The spotlight lights him up behind his cover and he swears and he vaults a small barricade and made a break for it, taking down a guard as he goes with the butt of his rifle.

He skids to a stop. 

Panting, he turned slowly around himself as he heard guns cocking. He dropped his gun in the mud and raised his hands. He was surrounded, men had their guns trained on him from all directions. Wash squints past the blindly light of the spotlight and saw even more on the rooftops. 

“Give up” A guard said, he couldn't tell which. 

“You got me,” Washinging said, looking around himself, his hands by his ears. 

“Where’s the other soldier?”

“What other soldier” Wash cocked his head to the side.

“Your partner” The guards snapped. 

“Oh, him” Wash said “he’s not my partner, we’re just working together”

The first sniper round was like thunder in the air. A shot clean through the visor. In that same moment, Washington met the guard with a knee to the chest. Landing light on his feet, he disarmed soldiers, tossed guns to the side, taking one guard out after the next. Sniper fire rained down from above covering his every move, plucking soldiers off coming at Washington from behind and then another coming out from his blind spot, falling as he brought his rifle up. 

_Good shot, north._

Wash shook that thought from his mind as he scooped his rifle off the ground and started for their rendezvous point. Locus appeared beside him, falling into stride with him, his sniper in his hands 

“How about next time you be the bait?” Wash said as Locus pulled a step ahead. 

Washington dragged Locus back around a corner by the back of his armour as rain of bullets where he had been standing. Wash tossed a grenade around the corner and curled away from the explosion. Locus nodded and they rounded the corner together. They move through men like it's nothing. They fight back to back like they had rehearsed it.

And just like that they were out again, disappearing into the night.

* * *

There is no good job or pat on the back as they walk off the pelican. It’s just Wash handing the drive over to Locus as he said “Come find me if anything comes up”

“Are you that desperate to find them, Agent Washington?” Leaving Wash to watch his back as he walked away, nothing more between them except the air thick with a point made.

Wash hated to admit it but they worked well as a team. They had gone for a couple of missions together and they clicked together like well oiled gears. Although the Reds and Blues had their moments, he can at least trust Locus not to trip up or start bickering in the middle of a mission, clogging up radio with chatter and _can we pleeassse save this for later_.

That doesn't mean he trusted him. No, the guy still made the hairs on the back of his tingle and his shoulders never truly relaxing while he was around him. But they had a job to do and they didn't have to like each other to get it done. Wash trusted only his skill and that he’d take the mission seriously. 

But it felt good to have someone to watch his back at the very least.

Back in prison, he had been walking around with a target on his back. Word had gotten around of what he was and suddenly everybody wanted the chance to say they took a freelancer down. With nobody to watch his back, he had crammed himself in the corner of his cell with only the memories of the Alpha to keep him company as guards clanged on the bars as they passed. 

He taught them why you should never corner an animal with nothing left to lose.

He had been sitting alone in the corner of the mess hall, curled around his food, sucking in his food and with eyes on the back of his head when a prison sauntered over looking for trouble, talking all kinds of smack about the project and dead friends. He leant down over Washington, about to grab his food or touch the back of his neck thinking he could get away with it. Lighting quick, Wash had slammed his head so hard into the table he had bounced, leaving a nasty crack in the table that stilled the mess hall into silence.

He had pitched his boiling hot coffee all over another as he charged him and put him on his back just as easily, stabbing the next in the thigh with his plastic fork. He went after them with bloody fists and teeth, covered in more blood belonging to other people. 

By the time he was gone, there was a pile of bodies at his feet and it had taken 4 fours guards. He had taken out two guys even after they had forced his hands into cuffs. The guards forced his head down as they dragged him from the mess hall, thrashing and kicking in front of everybody to see and threw him into solitary. 

They got the message then. 

He would say he’d mellowed out since then. 

* * *

The chain rattled as he slammed his fist into the punching bag.Sweat drenched his shirt and matted his hair to his forehead. He had debated staying in armour but it felt good to strip off his armour and toss the pieces to the side and take the opportunity to really roll his shoulders. He steadied the swinging bag before continuing the rep. This would be going a lot better with a partner to steady the bag for him. 

He had come to the gym where he knew nobody would disturb him. He was in no mood to talk, practically humming with restless energy. Things had settled down since their arrival but he still felt eyes tracking him as he walked the base and had to get used to the fed soldiers punctuating their conversations with Sir. He was taking the attention with uneasy acceptance and an arms distance. He was gone from the base most of the time, hitting the field hard with Locus for any shred of information he could find on the others. 

The faster they found the rest of the Reds and Blues the better. Who knows what trouble they could get themselves into. But as long as they had each other back they should be fine. They had always landed with a bounce and shrugged off everything that had been thrown at them before. 

And Felix was with them. That gave him a little comfort. He seemed like he knew how to handle himself in a fight at least.

He didn't let himself think further than that. 

He threw himself into his work. He had been slacking off for too long after all. The repetitive drilling, the numbing exertion, helped to ground him and burnt off the restlessness. He pushed until the blood pounding in his ears and ragged pants quieted the voices that shouted _you have prepared tucker more, pushed him harde_ r and _Would things have gone differently if Carolina had been there. But she isn't here right now._

He slammed his fist into the leather and staggered from exhaustion. He leaned against the punching bag, his breath coming in heaves and took a moment to rest his forehead against the worn leather as he wrapped his arms around the bag, sagging. 

When his breathing evened out, he used a towel to mop up his sweat on his face and the back of his neck before tossing it to the side and took a swig of water. 

If he was being truthful it wasn't as easy as it used to be. Back in Freelancer. It was hard to notice when you were slipping when you’re not surrounded by the best, pressured to improve and keep on your toes anymore.

He had lived a whole different life before Blue armour. He had been jumping out of buildings without a parachute or a plan while they were standing in a circle in the middle of a boxed canyon and eating pancakes.

Back then he had been a mere mortal surrounded by Apollos. An Icarus trying not to get burned getting burned by the sun.

So of course he had gotten good and he had gotten good fast. When you are put on your ass everyday and when each task was more impossible than the last you have little choice not to. 

_"So you do understand"_ Locus’s words reverberated through him.

They had never questioned the Director. Not once. They had all been too obsessed with the leader board and not getting trampled and kicked to the gutter that they never bothered to wretch their eyes away from the list and look at the Director and ask _What was it all for_?

The Director said jump and they said I'll hit the ground running.

And where did that get them? Stabbed in the back, torn apart, scarred and dead waiting for armour and AI to be collected.

 _"You are here because you have no other options.”_ the Counselor had said sitting by his hospital bed, whispering half truths into his ear and he had listened. 

Locus stood in the doorway watching him. Wash didn't know long he had been standing there. 

Washington shouldn't have been shocked by the scars. He had enough of his own. But that didn't stop him being a little unsettled the first time the X marring his face. There's no way that could be coincidence. The scars were too clean.

"Agent Washington, why am not surprised" he said as he stalked closer. His voice was intrusive and Wash bristled already "I had expected more of a fight from you at the canyon"

"Well sorry to disappoint" Wash couldn't help but say. He was used to that.

"I may have underestimated you," Locus continued. "When you are fighting to win and not just surviving, you are different.”

There was something in Locus’s stance. The way he angled his body to him that made Wash mirror it. Locus was sizing him up. He was looking for a fight. Wash narrowed his eyes. What did he want from him? Since day one he had latched onto him and been trying to make him understand something. And Wash did. He just didn't want to give him the satisfaction of an answer. 

Washington shook his head. He gathered up his stuff and headed for the door. He could feel Locus’s disappointment radiating. Even if he wasn't already tired and sweaty he still wouldn't fight him.

"I'm not looking for a fight. Another time maybe" he said as he brushed past Locus.

“I have news of the sim troopers” that made Wash stop in his tracks and turn.

“Tell me” Wash said. He now saw the drive in Locus' open palm and he reached for it urgently. 

Locus’s hand fisted around the drive and punched him. It had startled him and he shook the daze from his head even as Locus came at him, throwing a punch that Washington managed clumsily to twist away in the nick of time, stumbling back. 

Locus didn’t give him any time to recover and came at a tempo which made Washington work to dodged and block. Locus feinted kicks and sweeps, twisting their feet into patterns. 

Locus's punch swung wide as Wash dodged, leaving him wide open and years of instinct recognized the opening and snapped into action. Wash lashed out and caught Locus sharply on the cheek, snapping his head to the side.

Around them, the gym had stilled, stunned then buzzing with energy as the fight broke out. A crowd had already gathered in the gallery overlooking the gym floor, craning for a glance. They were looking for a spectacle, a dog fight between the two best fighters in the Fed. It was nothing but a show for them.

But Wash knew this was something else. 

They had been working together just long enough to know that it wasn't like Locus to draw a fight out like this. That's when he realized Locus wasn't fighting him, not really, he was just moving his feet, getting him to go where he wanted and maneuvering him around the gym like a dance.

Locus slotted the drive into his armour and out of Wash’s reach. 

The message was clear, Locus was going to make him work for it. He would have to beat him first if he wanted that drive. Fine, he could play along. Realizing this, Washington planted his feet, bringing his hands up. His entire body language changed as he squared for a real fight, getting ready to bleed. Locus sensed it and reflected wash.

"Are you going to actually fight me or are we going to dance all day'' Washington said. The crowd was cheering and jeering, a distraction like a fly buzzing in his ear. Locus didn't care if he found his friend. He clearly didn’t think he was going to lose and he was going to let everybody watch a freelancer be put on his ass. The crowd were probably placing bets. But Wash pushed all those thoughts from his mind and kept his focus trained on the drive. 

"I'm just proving my point." Locus said, ignoring the crowd as well as they circled each other sizing each other up for real this time. "your instinct is to punch back." 

"You seemed to think know me so well" 

"I Know your type. You and I-"

"Are just alike?" Wash said "is that what you were going to say? Yeah, yeah, I've heard it before. You can save it"

Wash only had enough time to bring his guard up as Locus unleashed a strike on him with brutal strength and the crowd erupted. Wash staggered back, knocked off balance. Each blow felt like a sledgehammer and all he can do is keep his guard up as he keeps getting pushed back and back further into the training room . Finally, Wash regained his footing and pivoted out of the way of a kick and used his momentum to spin away from him creating a bit of space between them.

He ducked behind the punching bag causing Locus’s strike to land harmlessly on the punching bag and not Wash. Wash kicked the back of the punching bag as hard as he can, sending it ramming it into Locus. 

It only distracted Locus for a split second and not as long as Wash had hoped. Vaulting on a bench he aimed a punch at him but Wash cried out as Locus caught his wrist and twisted it behind his back and slammed him into the wall. Locus kept his arm in a harsh lock as he pinned Wash to the wall, crushed under Locus's full weight.

"You’re resorting to cheap tactics" Locus growled his disapproval.

"They're not cheap if they work,” Wash said, remembering the Reds and Blues “There's no rules when you need to survive, isn't that right" Wash said smirking a little. He hissed as locus tightened his grip on his hand, pain shooting up his arm. "Where did you learn to fight?"

"Same place you did. In the battlefield with bullets flying overhead"

 _Where a mistake meant death and all it took was one bullet_ Wash thought but didn't say

"You used to understand." Locus said soft so only he could hear "I'm still waiting for your answer, Agent. Tell me what do you see in them?"

"I won't be able to explain it to you"

He remembered training late at night on the Mother of Invention. Maine batting Wash away like a fly but finally he had _somehow_ miraculously gotten Maine into an arm lock. He hadn't gotten over the elated disbelief when he let out a little yelp as Maine muscleed himself out of it and stood leaving him hanging upside down from his arm laughing. 

Wash threw his head back with a satisfying crack against Locus's nose. At the same time Wash planted his feet into the wall and shoving back with all he had sent both of them flying back, Locus grunting below him as they hit the ground. 

Wash took a breath before they spring at each other in a flurry, weaving and dodging before coming together like magnets. Locus took a hit like it was nothing. He caught Locus in the side with a good kick. It was move and countermove, momentum and spinning around each other. It was testing each other and pressing to find ground. His arms were on fire and his heart was pounding in his chest but each hit landed was satisfying. They were getting into the tempo and style of their dance, the crowd forgotten over them. 

In the canyon, they had tried to keep up with their training but the only person he could really stretch his fighting muscles with was Carolina. And even now he found himself in the dirt with frequency. But he knew her, knew how she fought. He'd been fighting her for years now. He knew she favoured kicks over punches and was hard to pin down. Tucker had been improving but Wash had essentially taught Tucker everything he knew. His moves were Tucker’s moves and Tucker still telegraphed his every move.

White exploded in behind his eyes as Locus punched him in the cheek.

"Focus, Agent Washington '' Locus' guard was down as he circled him. "In another life we would have worked well together. Perhaps even now"

"Thanks but no thanks” Wash said "I'm happy with the one I’ve got now. I'm done being just a suit of armour to be jerked around."

"And yet still here you are" Locus said "stepping right back into the role."

"I don't have to be here. Just give me that drive"

"Then end it. You can stop this anytime you want but if you could beat me you would have done it by now"

"I'm not going to lose to you" Locus may not care if he lost this fight but Wash would lose everything if he did. 

"But you already have '' Locus said, sending chills down his spine "Or else we wouldn't be here having this conversation. You would have stopped me from taking you, taking your friends. Your friends may be dead already."

For all his talk, Locus was showing signs of exhaustion now. His moves were less sharp and a little slower. It was satisfying to know that he was making locus work for it as well. Locus shoved at a bench with his foot and sent it hurling at Wash. Wash dove out of the way. He ducked under Locus's kick and in a kneel tried to sweep Locus’ feet from under him but he was faster and jumped back. Locus caught Washes punch and wrenching it back. Wash cried out as pain shot up his wrist, nearly dislocating. Locus jerked Wash up by his arm and at the same time slammed his elbow into Wash’s face sending him to the ground.

"Your going to have to try a lot harder than that Agent Washington if you want to save your friends" Locus said with a boot on his back, keeping him down. "your going to have to be ruthless"

He lifted his foot and paced away. The crowd was jeering, Locus glanced up at them and Wash felt a hot flush cross his cheek, his hands curled into fists "Get up."

Wash didn't have to be told. He had been fighting all his life. He deserved a little rest. Right now he just wanted to find his friends and sit in a boxed canyon where nobody knows where to find them with no reason to leave and rest for a good long while.

Wash heaved himself up from the floor. His vision was still swimming and his cheek throbbed hot

It was all bait. He knew Locus was trying to provoke him but Locus was poking all the right buttons. Had it not been not so long that he would have agreed with him? That he had been so much like Locus? It would be so easy to fall backwards into old habits.

He had been at the end of it all, stretched out in the snow as warm blood pumped out of him. His dead friend's healing unit is the only thing keeping him alive. He had watched the snow drift down, waiting to be hauled back to prison and having just watched the Meta die and thinking of where it went wrong and let himself sink into the snow. Then sim troopers with nothing to gain and everything to lose were above him. 

_He’s not a puppy_

_Help me get his armour off_

_We can’t keep him_

_Bring church's armour here_

_Won’t he be cold?_

_Why are you helping me?_ Like it was the most impossible thing

“You’ve been spending too much time with Sim Troopers. It felt good to be at the top, didn't it? How far fallen you’ve fallen, dragged down by dead weight.”

"I mean they took me down" Wash said wiping the blood from his nose "and Wyoming and Tex and the Meta and everybody else who’s come their way. So maybe you shouldn't be so quick to underestimate them."

They circle each other, walking edges of the mat both of them heaving and sweaty and bloody and refusing to go down. 

Freelancer hadn't expected much from him as well. He was nobody's first choice. Not when he was standing next to Carolina, good enough to add flair, and Maine, who could get shot in the throat and keep swinging. He didn't have a speciality but when it mattered the most, he was always the one to fill their spot and quietly get on with his job covering them and patching up leaks.

He had always been the first to get back up again.

_Don't disappoint me again_

_You’re easily the worst. I was being nice_ York had said and still he went down and Wash was to go collect his armor.

It was the problem of comparison. 

He may be the best of the worst now

But he had been the worst of the best of the best.

He’s gone through worse than this. He's going to get that drive. Wash felt something cold slide over him and steeled him. Pulling lightning speed out of nowhere, he crowded Locus and slid under his guard, he landed sharp strikes in quick succession in all the right places. He slammed his knee hard into Locus’s stomach and used their momentum to throw him over his hip.

He didn't give Locus any time to recover and grabbed Locus’ knife from its sheath and pressed it under his chin with his knees on either side of his chest. Locus is staring up at him dazed and caught off guard. 

“Do it”

Locus tapped out.

“Let's get one thing straight.” Now that he had gotten his attention, Wash leaned in closer and he pressed the knife down. “We may be working together for now, because I need you, but the second you look at my men wrong, if I catch even a hint that you would _think_ to betray us, I won’t even blink before I will end you, do you understand?”

“More than you know”

“Now give me that drive”

Maybe Felix was right, maybe he was a little melodramatic.

**  
  
  
  
  
  
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End file.
